Day 8 April 1, 2006

Day 8
April 1, 2006
Roper Lake State Park, AZ to Wilcox, AZ and Back





After checking the forecast for the Grand Canyon, it was decided that another night here would be optimal. To his dismay, Erik was sent back to the ranger’s station to renew the permit. This time, it was the head ranger on duty.

Erik: Good Morning
Ranger: How are you today?
Erik: If I was doing any better I’d have your job
Ranger: You must be doing pretty good then. How can I help you?
Erik: I need to renew our permit
Ranger: Hold on one second (and went inside to look in the blotter, and with a shake of his head) Bikers Unite?
Erik: Yes (bowing his head in shame)
Ranger: I heard that you’d talked to one of the other rangers yesterday and that y’all came to an agreement that you only had to pay once. (here follows a lecture of the rules of camping in Arizona state parks, but we won’t bore you with the details) If you look hard enough, you can find flaws in any rule. Since we already have an agreement, we’ll make an exception and honor it again. You only need to renew this for one day, right?
Erik: Yeah, we’ll be leaving tomorrow
Ranger: Good.

Erik resisted the urge to proclaim victory for the bikers out loud, and waited until he recounted the story to the group back at the site.

“Chilly” Bob Larson, our neighbor in an RV, was kind enough to give us some ideas for day rides in the area. Originally from Florida, he was now roaming the country with only what he could fit in his home on wheels.

He pointed up the nearby mountain to a set of antennas and told us of a road that went up there. There was no way down the back of the mountain with the road closed due to snow, so if we ventured up we’d have to come back down the same way. Intrigued, we decided it was an invitation to an adventure we couldn’t pass up.



Geared up and heading out two-up yet again we headed for the hills. We knew it would be cold up top since we could see the snowy peak from our campsite, so liners and warm clothes were the order of the day. Spank had complained about his view from the back of the bikes, so we let him have the best seat in the house for this romp (Mad Max style).







The mountain was steep and the ribbons of pavement wound around it ascending through trees, snow, and a few small mountain cottages.



“Wow” was the best description we could come up with when we stopped at the first available pull-off.







Reaching the top, we were over 9,000 feet in the air. The view was spectacular, and was well worth the treacherous hairpin turns. We let Spank play in the snow for a few minutes while we set up for a group photo.





Pictures just don’t do any justice to the views during the descent. Here’s just a sampling, but you really need to get out and see this part of the country for yourself to truly be awed by the beauty.































Back on level ground, we headed towards Wilcox to have a late lunch. We were told that the route would have a five mile stretch of hard-packed, passable dirt. It turned out to be washboard gravel, and was not nearly as bad for the V-Strom as it was for the VFR.



Once in Wilcox, we found the small but cozy Rodney’s. No room to eat inside, but tables out front and what appeared to be a patio area in the back. We figured we’d hit the jackpot upon noticing the personalized autographed pictures on the wall of Willie Nelson, Lorenzo Lamas, and Steve McQueen’s brother.







We placed our orders, sat with our sodas, and were taunted by the mouth-watering aroma while we waited. The food was spectacular and very reasonably priced, and Rodney was one of a kind. Unfortunately, he can’t read this for himself because he said he didn’t even know how to turn on a computer.









The result was empty plates and full bellies.



Well, not full enough that we couldn’t walk a half block over and get some ice cream and baked goods for dessert.



Once safely back in the park (well before the gate-locking curfew this time), we all decided a nap sounded like a great idea.

13 hours later…